King of Greed (Kings of Sin #3) by Ana Huang

The burn that spread behind my eyes was so fierce and sudden I didn’t have time to steel myself. One second, I was thinking about pasta and dessert; the next, I was on the verge of tearing up over a complimentary basket of garlic bread.

Get a hold of yourself.

I was having a perfectly palatable dinner with a perfectly nice, handsome man. I should not be thinking about my ex-husband. But despite my moving out, Dominic signing the papers, and Cole’s call informing me everything had gone through without a hitch last week, it hadn’t hit me that I was divorced until that moment.

No ring. No marriage. No Dominic.

I grabbed my water and chugged it, hoping it would wash away the taste of my failed relationship. It didn’t.

“You okay?” Aiden asked gently. Our server had left, and he watched me with a cautious expression that made me want to cry all over again. “We can take a rain check if you’re not feeling well.”

He was tactful enough to give me an out that didn’t involve mentioning my teetering meltdown. I’m the worst dinner date in the world.

“No. I’m fine.” I cleared my throat. “I just had something in my eye.” I could stick it out for one meal. It was food and conversation, not torture. “You recently came back from upstate, right? How was that?”

Whether it was the wine, impeccable pasta, or my utter determination to salvage the evening, Aiden and I finally hit our stride during the main course.

“Honestly, my dream is to retire upstate,” he said. “I’m not a big city person. If it weren’t for business, I’d be in a cabin somewhere, drinking beer and soaking in the fresh air. Fishing, hikes on the weekend. The good life.”

“That sounds wonderful.” I hadn’t gone hiking in a while, but my brother and I used to go all the time during our summers in Brazil. I missed it. “I hope you don’t take this the wrong way, but when I first saw you, I thought you looked like, well…” I coughed, second-guessing my moment of truth. “Like a lumberjack.”

Aiden’s boisterous laugh turned every head in the tiny trattoria and cooled the blush heating my cheeks.

“Nah. It’s a compliment. And if we’re on the subject of honest first impressions…” He leaned forward, his face softening. “When I met you, I thought you were the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

In theory, his confession should’ve given me butterflies. In practice, it made me feel…nothing. He might as well be a robot reading me the ingredients off a can of soup.

I took a gulp of wine, trying to think of an appropriate response that wouldn’t lead him on.

“Aiden, I— ”

“Alessandra.” The deep, cold voice sent goose bumps scattering over my arms.

My glass froze halfway to the table. No. After six weeks of radio silence, this couldn’t possibly be the night I ran into him again. The universe wouldn’t have such a sick sense of humor.

But when I glanced up, there he was. My ex-husband in all his infuriating blond, chiseled glory. He wore a crisp button-down, an expensive watch, and a stony expression as he rested his hand on the back of my chair with an intimacy he no longer had rights to.

“Dominic.” I didn’t bother hiding my displeasure.

Across the table, Aiden flicked his eyes between us with dawning comprehension. I’d mentioned the divorce to him in passing, and I could practically see him putting two and two together.

“What a coincidence running into you here,” I said stiffly. “We’re in the middle of dinner, so if there’s something you’d like to discuss, we can do it later.”

“I see that.” A muscle ticked in Dominic’s jaw. “Camila found some of your books in the library the other day. You should pick them up.”

“I’ll send someone next week.” There was no way in hell I would step inside the penthouse again. The last time I had gone home with him, we’d…

A flush crept beneath my skin. I craved another sip of wine for courage, but I refused to let him see the effect he had on me, so I kept my hands planted on the table, where my ringless finger looked especially bare against the white tablecloth.

“There’s also the matter of your art and kitchen goods,” Dominic said. “You need to pick out which ones you want.”

“I don’t want any of them.”

“That’s not what your lawyer said.”

“My lawyer was overzealous.” I pasted on a smile. He was obviously stalling; if the home goods were so important, he would’ve reached out about them before tonight. “You can keep everything. I’ll buy new items. Fresh start and all.”

His jaw ticked again.

“Sebastian is waiting.” I nodded at where his friend sat a few tables down, watching us with a curious expression. The normally suave French billionaire looked a little worse for wear. The Laurent brand had taken a beating since Martin Wellgrew’s death at Le Boudoir. He’d been allergic to peanuts, and the medical examiner had officially ruled it death by anaphylaxis due to traces of peanut in Wellgrew’s supposedly nut-free dinner, which wasn’t great for the restaurant it had taken place in. “Like I said, we can talk later.”

I forced myself to meet Dominic’s gaze as he stared down at me, his eyes unreadable. Then, just when I thought he’d refuse to leave, he released his hold on my chair and walked away without another word.